Chapter 7
1253 Words
The Friday morning sun streamed through the large windows of the Westbrook University library, casting golden streaks across the polished tables. Ivy McCall sat at a corner desk, her backpack open and notes spread in meticulous order. She was determined to focus today. This project was crucial, and she couldn’t afford distractions—especially not from her stepbrother, Asher Reid.
Asher, of course, had other plans.
He breezed in five minutes late, earbuds dangling around his neck and a confident grin plastered across his face. In one hand, he carried a coffee cup, and in the other, his guitar case, which he carefully set against the wall.
“You’re late,” Ivy said, her voice tight as she pointed a pen at him.
“Fashionably,” he replied, tilting his head. “You’re just early… and cranky.”
“I’m not cranky,” she said quickly, though the flush rising in her cheeks suggested otherwise.
“You definitely are,” he teased, sliding into the seat across from her. His knee brushed hers as he settled in, and Ivy stiffened, instinctively pulling back.
“You need to stop moving like you own the space,” she said, flipping open her laptop.
“Space is shared, Princess,” he said lightly. The nickname made her groan but also sent a strange flutter through her chest she wasn’t ready to acknowledge.
⸻
Hours passed in a strange rhythm of tension and collaboration.
Ivy was precise, analyzing sources and typing notes at a furious pace. Asher alternated between sketching diagrams on a notepad and humming quietly to himself. Every so often, their hands collided over a shared notebook, sending tiny shocks of awareness through Ivy. She tried to focus on the page in front of her, but her mind kept wandering to him—the way his hair fell across his forehead, the small smirk when he caught her staring, the warmth in his brown eyes that made her heart skip.
“You know,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence, “you concentrate really well when you’re frustrated.”
“I’m not frustrated,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.
“Uh-huh,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Sure. Totally not.”
She looked down, biting her lip, and muttered, “I’m focused. That’s all.”
“Focused,” he repeated, leaning closer. The subtle scent of cedar and something faintly sweet hit her senses. “Focused, right. You look… intense when you do that.”
Her ears burned. “I’m… concentrating!”
“Uh-huh.” He smirked, that lazy, infuriating smirk. “Totally just concentrating.”
⸻
By mid-afternoon, the library was quieter. Students had gone to class, leaving the sunlight to warm the wooden floors. Ivy’s fingers hovered over her keyboard, trying to finish a section of the project. Asher was beside her, reviewing slides. Every time he leaned in to point at a chart, she felt the faint brush of his arm against hers.
“Your hands are cold,” he said, as if noticing for the first time.
“I… don’t think that’s relevant to our project,” she muttered, though she shifted slightly closer.
“Everything’s relevant if you notice it,” he replied softly. There was a pause. Then, almost inaudible, he added, “You notice a lot.”
Ivy swallowed, suddenly aware of how close they were. The light from the window caught in his eyes, highlighting the depth she had never noticed before. He smiled faintly, as if reading her thoughts.
“You’re… really quiet,” he said.
“I’m trying to focus,” she whispered.
“You’ve been saying that all day,” he said, leaning back. “But something tells me you’re thinking about other things.”
Her stomach flipped. “I… I’m not.”
“Uh-huh,” he murmured, eyes softening. “Okay, Princess.”
⸻
Later, they left the library together, their textbooks tucked under their arms.
The campus was alive with students hustling to afternoon classes, Frisbees flying across the quad, and laughter echoing from the café nearby. Ivy kept a brisk pace, determined not to linger—but Asher walked beside her, matching her steps effortlessly.
“You’ve been unusually quiet since the library,” he said. “Something happen?”
“I’m just tired,” she said quickly.
“Tired,” he echoed, tilting his head. “Sure. Tired of what, exactly?”
She wanted to snap back, to tease, to ignore—but instead, she said, “Nothing. Just… everything.”
He nodded slowly, as if understanding more than she had intended to reveal. “Everything, huh?”
“Yes.” She exhaled sharply, wishing the words didn’t feel so heavy.
“You know,” he said, pausing as they reached the benches near the fountain, “I think you’re… incredible when you’re like this.”
Her heart stuttered. “Like… focused?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, voice low. “Like… you. All of it.”
She looked down, embarrassed, but also… thrilled. There was a flutter she could no longer deny. She wanted to look at him, wanted to tease him back, but words failed her.
⸻
The next evening, Ivy was startled by a knock on the apartment door.
She opened it to find Naomi, holding a bag of snacks and grinning. “Ivy! You have got to come to the campus mixer tonight. Everyone’s there!”
“I can’t,” Ivy said quickly. “I have… homework and project stuff.”
“You’ve been cooped up all week! Come on, you need a break. Even Asher will be there.”
Her heart skipped. “Even Asher will be there?”
“Yes,” Naomi said knowingly. “And yes, you should go. Trust me.”
Reluctantly, Ivy agreed, figuring a short visit couldn’t hurt.
⸻
The campus mixer was a riot of laughter, music, and glowing lights strung across the quad. Students in groups, dancing and joking. Ivy’s stomach tightened as she spotted Asher across the crowd, talking to friends—but then his gaze landed on her.
“Princess,” he called softly, weaving through the crowd toward her.
“You’re here too?” she whispered, feigning irritation.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” he said, leaning close. “You look… amazing.”
Her cheeks warmed. “Stepbrother compliments aren’t allowed.”
“Glad I can break rules,” he replied, eyes sparkling.
They spent the evening talking, laughing, and teasing each other. Every accidental touch, every lingering glance, made Ivy’s chest flutter uncontrollably. She tried to tell herself it was harmless—but deep down, she knew it wasn’t.
As the night drew to a close, Asher walked her back to the apartment. The air was crisp, the campus quiet except for distant laughter.
“Tonight was… fun,” Ivy admitted softly.
“Yeah,” he said, voice low, close enough for her to feel the warmth of it. “Really fun.”
There was a moment—a heartbeat suspended in time—where neither moved, where the world fell away. Ivy could feel the tension, the unspoken desire, the magnetic pull she had been fighting for weeks.
Then, with a small smirk, he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, partner.”
Her stomach fluttered violently. “Y-yeah. Tomorrow.”
She closed the door behind her, leaning against it, heart racing.
Stepbrother. That’s all he is… right?
But deep down, Ivy knew the answer was already complicated.
- Writer
